


The Gift

by Ohhhmyloki



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Sex, Intoxication, Magic, Nursing Kink, Orgy, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Soul Bond, Spells & Enchantments, Telepathy, fidelity bond, loki's library
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:25:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21996673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohhhmyloki/pseuds/Ohhhmyloki
Summary: This is a special holiday add-on to my 15 chapter fic entitled "Fidelity Won" (link below).If you haven't read the original fic, you may wish to do so first, as the story will be a bit confusing otherwise.https://archiveofourown.org/works/15559506Synopsis: Loki a Sigyn return to Earth for the holidays to attend Tony Stark's enormous Christmas party. Everyone is invited; the Avengers, all of Stark's employees, even the God of Mischief himself. But how will Loki cope with the inevitable boredom of this ridiculous human celebration? -- set more than five years after the events of Endgame, in an AU where ALL the Avengers survive and Thor decides to stay on Earth to rule over New Asgard.
Relationships: Loki/Sigyn (Marvel)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 45
Collections: Loki for the Holidays





	The Gift

**Author's Note:**

> For TalkLokiToMe <3

Loki stood at the edge of the crowd in the vaulted lobby of Stark Tower and watched the teeming dancefloor: a mass of festively dressed humans flailing sweatily to a ridiculous hip-hop version of “Jinglebell Rock.” The DJ--perched above them all on a temporary stage, wearing a floppy green elf hat and a sweater depicting a snowman in sunglasses above the knitted admonition, “You need to chill”--was none other than Tony Stark himself. 

The man was visibly drunk, grinning and bobbing his head, swaying precariously. Loki had been watching him for ten minutes in hopes that the metal man would simply tumble from his perch. Perhaps directly into the moronic crowd below. 

_ This is beyond idiotic _, he thought, directing his ire at the woman resting comfortably several floors up, in the room Stark had given them for the duration of their visit. 

Sig’s response was crisp, dry: _ You’re the one who promised your brother you’d attend. Besides, you love parties. _

Loki grunted, took a sip of the atrocious concoction he’d acquired from the bar--some inexplicable combination of rum and spiced liqueur. _ I can’t even get drunk to take the edge off, _ he complained. _ Mortal spirits are too weak. _

_ Spell it, then, _was her unsympathetic reply. 

At that moment, a couple sailed by him, the woman holding onto the man by the front of his jacket, pulling him along towards the hallway leading to the restrooms. 

The man was at least eight feet tall--and green. 

And drunk. 

Banner caught Loki’s eye by accident and the two men were forced to make polite nods of acknowledgment at each other, Banner smiling moronically, Loki almost scowling. 

Seeing her companion’s look, the woman glanced back over her shoulder. Her pretty lips pursed in an exaggerated moue of distaste when she saw the God of Mischief leaning against the wall in his black suit and crimson tie. 

“Romanoff,” Loki gave her a toothy, ironic smile. 

Her answering sneer was not nearly as subtle as usual. 

The spy was drunk, too, of course.

They all were--every human in the building. 

Loki smirked to himself as they disappeared down the hallway into one of the back rooms. 

To his wife, he said, _ I already used that intoxication spell I showed you on Solas 9. _

Sig’s answering dismay was tangled up with a restrained thread of humor. _ Oh, Loki, you didn’t! _

_ I did, _ he replied unapologetically, watching a pair of Stark’s muscular security guards engage in a dance Mad had once informed him was called “twerking.” _ The whole function was a little too staid for my tastes, _he added drily. 

Sig's psychic giggle improved his mood considerably. 

_ Why didn’t you use it on yourself? _she asked.

Loki smirked. _ So I can remember every humiliating moment with crisp detail. _

_ Of course, _she said drily. 

A flurry of activity and raised feminine voices drew his attention towards the tables in the banquet area beyond the dancefloor. 

_ Oh, this is priceless, _he thought. 

_ What is it? _Sig asked. 

_ Captain Rogers just climbed up on one of the tables and --Norns. He’s taken his shirt off. _

_ Oh my, _she said gravely.

Loki bit his lip to keep from laughing. _ He’s dancing now. Several ladies are cheering him on--oh dear. Now they’re throwing money. _

_ Holy hell, Loki, _ Sig exclaimed, half horror and half amusement. _ You’re going to have a lot of questions to answer in the morning. _

_ Worth it _, he replied.

_ Is Thor with you? _she asked, clearly wondering what sort of humiliating behavior Loki’s spell had inspired in her brother-in-law. 

_ He’s currently out on the dancefloor, allowing several women to rub themselves all over him. _

She chuckled. _ Is he dancing? _

_ He is, I’m afraid, _Loki replied, grinning again. 

Sig had seen the God of Thunder dance only once before, on their first return to Earth a few years ago. Thor had taken them to a local club and proceeded to demonstrate his newly-acquired human dance moves. 

Loki could still hear Sig’s laughter. 

_ I wish I could see that, _ she said wistfully. 

_ Come down, then, _he prompted. 

She gave him a wordless--and characteristically artless--psychic pout. _ My feet hurt, though. And my back. Besides, that party is no place for a woman in my condition. _

He thought about her lying in the big bed upstairs, wearing only a t-shirt and the fuzzy robe Pepper had given her, long hair uncombed and a bowl of popcorn balanced on her belly--just as he’d left her, watching Christmas movies with the Tolok.

_ I did offer to carry you earlier, _he reminded her. 

She snorted, _ What, so you can crack jokes about how heavy I am? No, thank you. _

He suppressed a chuckle and said soothingly, _ My Queen, you wound me. You are light as a feather, and I would never think to suggest otherwise. _

Another snort--and then a pause while she thought about how they’d cuddled in the big bed before his departure. Her longing to have him back made his body sing with love and arousal.

_ I’ll come back right now, _ he said, and sent her an image to go with the words.

He was rewarded with the distinct psychic shiver of Sig’s arousal.

_ You should at least _ try _ to engage with them, Loki, _ she said. _ Flirt with some humans or something. Play pranks on all the drunk people. Dance with your brother. _

_ Everyone here knows I have a magnificently beautiful and deadly wife, _ he grumbled _ . Plus, pranking drunk people is too easy, and Thor is...thoroughly preoccupied. I’d rather come back up and join you in bed. _

She sighed_ . He’ll be disappointed if you leave, and you know it. _

Loki looked at the teeming mass of dancers. At Thor, near the center of the throng, standing head and shoulders above the humans around him. The God of Thunder was grinning down at a pretty brunette woman who’d plastered herself to the front of his body. The two of them undulated together in a most..._ undignified _ way. 

Sig would have laughed. Loki just felt…

_ Disappointed _ , Sig supplied gently. _ You miss him, Loki. _

Loki growled, _ Don’t do that. You know I hate it when you do that. _

She sighed. _ Just admit that you want to make up with him. _

_ I _ have _ made up with him! _ Loki exclaimed. 

Her eye-roll, despite being impossible for him to see, was tangible. _ Just because you’re not yelling and punching each other anymore doesn’t mean you’ve made up. _

Loki growled under his breath. Things had been strained when he and Sig returned to Earth from Solas 9 after their marriage. 

Thor had been shocked, of course, to see Loki alive. 

Shocked--and furious. 

It still made the God of Mischief cringe inwardly to think of the state in which his brother had been when they’d arrived at New Asgard that first time. 

Thor had recovered, of course, in the years that followed. Stopped wallowing in beer and self-pity. Regained his warrior’s physique. Taken an active role in ruling New Asgard. And he’d had a few good brawls with Loki, as well. It was the only way they knew to work out their frustrations with each other. All those long-standing resentments...the lies, the betrayal. 

The loss. 

Loki wasn’t sure that Thor had forgiven him. For dying--_ again. _For leaving Thor alone with his grief--and with the war against Thanos. They’d reached a state of tenuous camaraderie, in recent visits. A familiar, bickering sort of peace.

But it wasn’t truly peaceful. Not really. 

They’d lost too much between them. And even though the Avengers had undone all of Thanos’ destruction, the inner wounds remained. 

Mad’s voice drifted to him along the bond he shared with Sig. _ Give it time, my Loki. All will be healed. _

_ Get out of my head, Tolok, _he growled. 

But as much as the intrusion irked, her words reassured him. He’d come to trust the little witch implicitly over the years. If not for her, Sig would never have convinced him to return. 

_ Your brother needs you, my Loki, _ Mad had told him. _ He suffers greatly. _

Thor had never _ needed _him before. At least, not in the way Mad described. And...though he would never speak the words aloud, Loki wanted Thor to heal.

Loki had healed, in the time between Thanos and now. Being with Sig had healed him. The Tolok, too. 

And now their bizarre little family was growing. 

At that moment, Thor came stumbling out of the crowd, spotted Loki, and barreled towards him, grinning drunkenly. 

“Brother!” he cried, clapping Loki soundly on the shoulder, “You should dance!” He looked around without waiting for an answer, blonde hair sweaty and clinging to his neck. “Where has the bar gone? Oh! There it is!” And then he threw his head back and laughed, resuming his bumbling journey, this time towards the gaggle of people waiting for their drinks to be refreshed. 

Halfway there, he spun back towards Loki. “Will you take another drink, brother?” he called, walking backward now, knocking into a pair of gentlemen in suits and obnoxious Christmas ties. “Oh! Sorry, my friend,” the God of Thunder laughed again, helping one man up off the ground and throwing his arm enthusiastically around the other. “I love this holiday! I love this planet!” he cried. And then, putting the righted man in a friendly headlock, “I love humans!” 

The three of them laughed uproariously, slapping each other on the back and exchanging loud masculine expressions of affection. Loki was quite sure his brother had never met either of the two humans before. 

_ I may have made the spell a little too potent, _ he said to Sig. _ I’m surrounded by buffoonery. It was amusing at first, but I’m rapidly growing weary of it. _

Sig chuckled. _ You know how to solve that problem. _

_ Hm. Return to my rooms and make passionate love to my Lady wife? _

_ Your Lady wife is going to take a nap. _

_ Cruel, _ he replied, as his brother guffawed so loudly that he could be heard above the thumping, atrocious music and the raised voices of over a hundred inebriated humans. 

At that moment, Romanoff and Banner stumbled out of the back. Banner’s bright red dress shirt was creased, half untucked from his slacks, hair mussed, expression slightly dazed and all too pleased. 

Even Romanoff looked happy--and a little rumpled. 

Thor caught sight of them, roared, “_ BANNER!” _in a bright, booming voice, staggered to them, and then embraced the enormous scientist with both arms. They hugged each other like long-lost brothers. 

Loki had stood with the two of them not an hour before as they exchanged idle, _ sober _ pleasantries.

A moment later a woman in a sparkling golden dress tripped near the edge of the dancefloor and sprawled at Loki’s feet, giggling almost maniacally as he helped her up.

She grabbed hold of his arms, looked up at him with wide, glazed eyes, and said in a muzzy voice, “I think _ you’re _ the hot one.”

“I--beg your pardon?” 

She leaned closer, still holding his arms. Her breath smelled of cinnamon and alcohol. “My friends think Thor is the hot one,” she said conspiratorially, “but you got that _ bad boy _ thing going on, and I _ like _it.” 

Loki opened his mouth. Closed it again. 

“It’s too bad you’re married now,” the woman went on, unphased. Her gaze dipped to his mouth. “Or else I could be persuaded to do something _ very _ naughty.”

Norns. The look on her face said she could be persuaded _ now _, wife notwithstanding. 

Loki smiled. She was a pretty little thing, in a diminutive, girlish sort of way.

“You flatter me, my dear,” he said smoothly, turning her around and putting his mouth next to her hear as he guided her back towards the gaggle of dancing women from which she’d tumbled. “And were I not married, I would be _ very _ pleased to accommodate you. But I’m afraid my wife is a terribly vengeful woman.” 

She giggled, leaned back in his arms and said, “You could talk me into _ anything _ with that voice.”

After depositing her in the arms of a woman Loki recognized as Stark’s receptionist, he extricated himself as graciously as he could, then turned--and found that his place against the wall had been taken by the pair of twerking security guards...who were now kissing passionately. 

_ That’s it, _ Loki thought. _ I’ve reached my limit. _

_ I hope you’re sleeping, _ he said to Sig.

She didn’t answer, though he felt the reassuring touch of the Tolok on his mind. 

_ I’ll watch over her, my Loki. _

_ Good, _ he thought, _ because I’m not going to be back for a while. _

And then he cast another intoxication spell.

  
***

  
  


Sigyn woke to the sound of the outer door banging open and Loki laughing at something as he stumbled inside. 

She sat up laboriously in the big four-poster and looked at Mad, who perched at the end of the mattress with a half-eaten tin of peanut brittle beside her. The big flatscreen on the wall behind her displayed a scene from Elf; Will Farrel in a skintight green and yellow costume, skipping along the sidewalk in downtown New York. 

“Loki is home,” said the Tolok. 

“Yes, I am!” Loki declared, almost sing-song, presenting himself dramatically in the bedroom doorway. Sig’s eyes widened. Gone was the crisp black suit and crimson dress shirt. Loki leaned provocatively against the door jam wearing a classic red-velvet Santa costume that was about three sizes too big for him. The furry jacket hung open over his bare chest and the velvet pants hung dangerously low around his hips. Even the floppy hat sat at a haphazard angle, its puffy white end bobbing ridiculously around his left temple. 

Loki awarded his wife with an incongruously wicked smile. “Hello, my darling,” he purred.

That expression and the deep, velvet voice--so at odds with his appearance--made her want to giggle hysterically. “Hello,” Sig said, voice slightly squeaky. “You’re drunk.”

“_Shhhhhhhh _,” he put his finger to his lips, expression gone serious, eyelids drooping seductively. Then he seemed to notice Mad. “You!” he pointed at the Tolok. “Scat.”

Mad just tilted her head at him, violet eyes wide and rapt. 

“It means ‘get lost!’” he announced. “I want to molest my wife.”

Utterly unperturbed, the Tolok looked at Sig and said, “Can I come back and finish the movie after?”

“No,” Loki said, at the same time Sig said, “Yes.”

They looked at each other and Sig fought not to laugh. His eyes were very green, and hooded, and adorably glazed. 

“Mommy and Daddy need to have alone time,” he said to Mad. “Go and play in your room.”

When it produced no response from Loki, Mad redirected her quizzical look to Sigyn. 

“Go on,” Sig said, fighting to keep a straight face. “I’ll explain it to you later.”

Mad winked into the aether and left them alone, taking the peanut brittle with her.

“You had fun,” Sig said, watching him stroll across the room to her. He didn’t stumble, but his gait was much looser than normal. The red pants flapped around his ankles.

He dropped to his knees beside the bed, grabbed her legs, and pulled her to the edge of the mattress. Then he buried his face in the taught curve of her belly and issued a deep, velvety "_Mmmmmmmm," _ of pleasure. 

"Did you really come back to molest me," she said a moment later, patting the velvety hat, "or just my belly?"

"Both," he said, very muffled. His hands rose and cupped the burgeoning swell of their unborn child. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she replied softly, fingers in his hair. "Or were you talking to your baby?"

"Mmm. Mine," he mumbled, eyes closed, cheek resting against her. "Both of you."

Sig smiled, stroked her fingers along his jaw. "You are so sweet when you're drunk, Loki." 

"Shhhhhhhhh," he said again, eyes still closed. "I'm not drunk."

“Oh, I see. My mistake. How come there’s lipstick on your neck, hmm?” she fingered the little smudge--a bright, girlish pink color. 

“Not my fault,” he answered sullenly. “I was accosted.”

She suppressed a chuckle, reading the truth through their bond. “I just bet you were.”

“I _ was,” _he insisted. His hands slid down to her hips, drew the halves of her robe apart, and slipped under the t-shirt beneath to caress the bare skin of her belly. “By a pretty fetus in a sparkly dress.”

Sig laughed. “She can’t have been that young. All of Stark’s employees are legal adults.”

He lifted his head and pushed the t-shirt up over her belly, gaze trained on the pale, taut flesh. “Hardly out of diapers,” he muttered, kissing her just above the navel. “I told her you were vengeful but she came back later and tried to bite my neck.” 

“My, what an aggressive fetus.”

“I know, it was _ terrible _," he lamented, kissing a trail towards her breasts.

“How was it with Thor?”

“Mmph. I’ll tell you later,” he grumbled, pushing impatiently at her clothes, “Take this _ off _.”

Sig obediently shrugged out of the robe and then let him pull the t-shirt off over her head. 

His gaze focused immediately on her breasts, pupil expanding, _ glittering _ with lust. “Have they gotten bigger since this afternoon?” 

“I doubt it,” Sig said as he cupped her with both hands. They’d made love once today already, at which time they’d discovered Sig was lactating. She shivered just thinking about the way Loki had responded to that discovery. 

His fingertips closed on her nipples and she gasped. “Gentle please,” she said breathlessly, “You know how sensitive I am.”

A small milky tear appeared at the tip of each nipple. Loki said nothing, focused on the flesh in his hands. He leaned forward and licked one drop away, then the other. The fur of the hat tickled her chest. Each swipe of his tongue made her gasp and shiver. 

Before she knew it, his lips sealed on her right nipple and he was drawing hungrily on the tender flesh, making familiar, guttural sounds of arousal in the back of his throat.

Sig sat frozen, legs spread around his torso, hands in his hair, _ rocked _ by the sensation of it. The red hat tumbled from his head and landed soundlessly on the floor beside him.

He’d drunk from her this morning, too. The pull of his mouth had awakened something then--a tickling, prickling, fluid burn--half pain and half pleasure. She could actually feel the milk sort of..._ released _, flowing down to Loki. 

Now again, the nipple pulsed and tingled in his mouth. 

A near-identical sensation echoed between her legs. 

But the milk flowed quickly this time.

He let go and pulled back when it reached him. A fat, white drop formed where his mouth had been. 

The look on his face stole what little breath she had left. In was an animal sort of look--the same look he got when they were reunited after a long absence. A look of heady, primal lust. 

“Loki--” she started, but he was already rising, pushing her back onto the bed, climbing over her on all fours. 

“_Loki_,” she tried again as he arranged her with both arms above her head, straddling her thighs, gaze trained on her breasts. 

“Hush,” he said harshly, “Just let me.”

And then bent and latched on, drawing so firmly that she cried out--pain and pleasure and that sharp, tickling burn. He shifted his mouth, adjusting the suction--and suddenly the burn and the pain were gone, replaced by bright, electric currents of pleasure that ran straight from her nipple down into her womb. 

Sig cried out, writhing helplessly beneath him.

Loki just groaned around her flesh and sucked harder. The fidelity bond expanded, his pleasure mingling with hers now, making her stiffen and whimper, sex buzzing.

_ Coming--Loki! _she thought wildly as the pleasure blasted her. 

His feelings were right there, imminently available to her--sensations, too--following her into the pleasure, making it brighter, hotter. 

Milk spilled into his mouth in a fine, silky stream--sweet and hot. His satisfaction and the deep, animal lust made her whimper again. He pressed his hips against her, grinding his erection into her mons, poking the underside of her big belly. 

It never failed to surprise her just how arousing he found her pregnant body. The bigger she grew, the more erotic he seemed to find her.

At the moment his torso rested lightly against her and she could feel his enjoyment of the sensation. He was thinking about fucking her and holding her belly with both hands, watching her engorged breasts bounce and jiggle. 

Even her sex seemed more swollen these days, pink and slick and always ready for him. 

"Loki," she rasped, "_Please _."

One of his hands scrabbled between them, opening his fly, freeing his cock, angling it clumsily between her closed thighs. The ridiculous Santa pants slipped down and left his pale hips bare, cock jutting beautifully against his own fingers. He couldn’t get inside though, not at this angle--not with her enormous belly in the way. 

His thoughts were wordless already--just brilliant flashes of need and emotion. She drank it in--his excitement, his desire to be inside her. His anticipation of nursing from the other breast, of making her come that way, of feeling her tighten around his cock as he drank from her. 

Sig moaned, “Loki, you’ll kill me,” and wiggled beneath him. "_Hurry _."

But he was thrusting into the seam of her thighs, rubbing his length against the outer lips of her sex, making those low noises again, driving her _ mad. _

When he finally broke away from her breast it was to strip his jacket off, free one of her legs from between his own, and--lifting her thigh over his hip--thrust quickly inside. 

Sig cried out wordlessly--_ Ah! Gentle, Loki!-- _ because pregnancy had made her increasingly sensitive--almost _ raw _. His cock felt painfully large, pumping urgently, straight to her core. 

But it was _ good, _too, feeling so full of him. Near to bursting, body swollen and hypersensitized. 

_ And wet, _ he whispered headily along their bond, pleasure drunk as he latched on to her other breast. _ Always so wet for me, Sig. Hardly need to touch you. _

He pushed deep, as though to demonstrate. Her body stretched, wept. Trembled.

His black curls trailed her other breast and tickled the nipple he'd abandoned.

She moaned again, nearing her second orgasm already. Loki drew on her left breast, bombarding her with sensation. The tingling burn again, the intense, liquid pleasure. 

His moan when the milk reached his mouth pushed her over the edge and she thought of nothing while she came but Loki--Loki’s mouth, Loki’s cock sawing deep inside her, Loki’s pleasure. 

When the orgasm receded he was still sucking--still drinking deeply--and still inside her. He’d stopped thrusting, but he started again as soon as he felt her thoughts begin to clear. 

Slow now. Tender, rocking thrusts, using his length to stroke her trembling inner flesh while his mouth worked on her breast--giving her his cock while he fed from her. Swallowing and swallowing as the milk flowed steadily into his mouth. 

He came like that minutes later, still swallowing, groaning, buried to the hilt with her pussy milking him. Sig came too, of course, _ wild _ with it--with this primal exchange of fluids. This giving and taking; his come and her milk flowing between them, like their feelings along the bond--like their love. 

Afterward, she lay utterly limp and Loki collapsed beside her, pants crumpled around his thighs, shoes on, hair mussed from her hands, cock gleaming against his pale belly. 

Sig rolled towards him and his arm curled around her, though he didn’t move otherwise and his eyes were closed. 

She looked at his profile for a while and drank in his floaty feelings of love and satisfaction. Then she said in a slightly hoarse voice, “I never imagined I would enjoy that so much. Actually, I never imagined it at all.”

“Mmm,” he mumbled, eyes still closed. “I’ve been thinking about it for months.”

“Really?” 

He nodded minutely. “I didn’t know your milk would come in so early.” His lips curved. “Lucky me.”

“Why did you hide those thoughts from me?”

His head lolled towards her and his eyes opened, “I thought you’d be more likely to allow it if I didn’t give you too much time to think.”

“Sneaky.”

He smiled. Rolled towards her and curved his body around her belly. “Round two?” he asked. 

“You do realize this milk is not for you.” 

“I’ll be happy to share when the baby comes,” he replied seriously. 

His eyes twinkled though. 

Sig snuggled closer. “Go on then.”

Loki squirmed down beside her until his face was level with her breasts and his chest rested warmly against her belly. He cupped her, took one nipple. Suckled tenderly. 

Again she felt the tickle, the flow. No pain this time though. No burning. 

Just that electric arc of pleasure traveling from his mouth to her sex. 

“I’m not sure there’s much left,” she mumured, breathless already, watching his mouth this time--his face, almost beatific. Meanwhile, is emotions surged with lust and possession. The combination--his tenderness, the sweetness, those primal sexual feelings--was wonderfully heady. 

His fingers slipped between her legs, parted hot, slick flesh. Touched her clit very gently, stroking, stroking, his heart welling with love and devotion.

Sig came on a long, slow shudder, holding his head against her breast with both hands, drawing his feelings deep into her heart. 

And his child, as though sensing the love into which it would be born, turned over slowly inside her.

  
  


***

Loki woke to the sound of someone pounding on the door. 

His eyes snapped open and he looked blearily around the unfamiliar room for a moment before his gaze settled on Mad, sitting beside him against the pillows, staring at the TV. 

“It’s your brother,” she said, without looking away from the screen. “And the Captain, and the funny one.”

_ Norns _. “The funny one” was Mad’s name for Stark. She seemed to have some difficulty with his actual name, “Because it means ‘barren’ or ‘sharply delineated,’” she said, and the man himself, according to her, was neither. 

But the Tolok’s quirky relationship with human language was not his central concern right now. 

The pounding came again at the door. 

_ Hel _, he thought, casting about the room for his wife’s pleasantly rotund form. He needed a buffer. Sig was an excellent buffer. 

Thor wouldn't punch him in front of his pregnant wife. 

“Sigyn is in the shower, my Loki,” the Tolok explained--again, still staring at the television. She was watching _ cartoons _ now, of all things. 

Loki looked across the room at the open double doors leading into the enormous bathroom. He could, indeed, hear the hiss of the shower and the faint sound of Sigyn humming to herself as she washed. 

He had only a moment to resent the fact that she had not woken him to join her--washing her was one of his favorite morning rituals--before he heard his brother bellow, “LOKI! I know you’re in there! Open this door!” And then the muffled, sarcastic murmur of Stark’s commentary. 

“Damn,” he said, sitting up. He looked at Mad. “I guess it’s time to--what’s that human saying? Pay the pauper?”

“The piper,” she corrected, “Pay the piper.”

“Right,” he looked down at himself--at the baggy red velvet pants and his naked chest, the latter of which bore a few love marks, courtesy of his wife. 

And then he smiled a shameless, wicked smile. “Alright then. Time to pay the piper.”

***

Sig emerged from the bathroom only seconds later--to a chorus of horrified masculine exclamations. 

“Loki--_ Allfather _ \--what are you _ wearing _ ?” and “For God’s sake man, a _ Santa suit? _” 

Then Stark, with a smile in his voice: “Kinky.”

“_You _ rudely woke me from my wife’s embrace,” came Loki’s distinctly amused reply, “You have only yourselves to blame.” 

Sig quickly donned a fresh t-shirt and the long fuzzy robe, then crept toward the bedroom door as Thor began, “And who do we have to blame for the events of last night, brother? Pray tell me.”

“Last night?” Loki echoed innocently, “What happened last night? It was an excellent party, in my opinion.”

Sig peeked around the door jam in time to see a shirtless Loki in baggy red Santa pants nod graciously to Stark in acknowledgment.

Tony lifted his hands, “Don’t thank _ me _ for that insane Bacchanalia. I’ve never been so drunk in my life. Pepper is _ furious _. So,” he gestured to the God of Mischief, “Kindly absolve me of guilt and I’ll get back to my wife and daughter so we can enjoy our Christmas morning.”

“What on Earth makes you think I had anything to do with it?” Loki replied.

Rogers chose that moment to step forward, visibly fuming. “Maybe the fact that not one of us is hungover?” he said, and then added, with less ire, “Which, I gather, is not normal?”

“Aye, it isn’t normal at all,” Thor interjected before Loki could speak. “And I’ve only experienced that kind of intoxication once before, at my coming of age ceremony, when _ you--” _he poked his brother sharply in the chest, “Cast a spell on me to humiliate me before all of Asgard!” 

“Now, now, gentlemen,” Loki held his hands up in a gesture of harmlessness, “I understand why you would think that I--”

“‘Think’ nothing!” Rogers’ barked. “I didn’t even drink last night! And even if I did, I physically _ can’t _ get drunk! And you’re trying to tell me that _ wasn’t _ some kind of magical occurrence?”

Loki’s arms fell to his sides and Sig smiled at his abrupt change of tactics. 

“Did you not enjoy yourself?” he asked. “You _ looked _ to be enjoying yourself--rather thoroughly, in fact.”

Rogers flushed. “Th-that’s not--I’ve never--! That was totally inappropriate behavior!”

Thor chuckled, “That dance you did was pretty funny, actual--”

Rogers gave him a look of impending violence and Thor coughed nervously, gathering his ire again as he turned back to Loki. “Humans are much too delicate for such spells, brother. Their weak bodies cannot withstand--”

“Alright, yeah yeah, we’re a bunch of marshmallows,” Stark cut him off, “Point of fact, _I _thought it was a great party, too, but there may be some... discomfort amongst my employees in the aftermath of the _enormous_ _orgy_ that apparently occurred somewhere between the time Pepper dragged me to bed and before the police came.”

Sig drew back from the doorway and covered her mouth to muffle her laughter. 

Mad had crept up beside her at some point and stood unabashedly in the open doorway, watching. 

None of the men seemed to notice her, but Sig pulled her out of sight anyway.

_ Should we not intervene, my Sigyn? _ The Tolok asked, _ Loki may be in danger. _

_ No, _ Sig replied, _ If he gets another black eye, that’s his problem. He knew what he was doing last night. _

_ Cruel, _ came Loki’s psychic reply. He was amused by it all, though. 

Deeply amused. 

_ You might try apologizing_, Sig said. 

“Just admit that you did it or I’m going to call my wife up here,” Stark threatened, crossing his arms. “Believe me, you wouldn’t like her when she’s angry.”

_ Checkmate_. Sig giggled under her breath. 

Loki sighed. “Fine. I admit that the spell was mine. But--!” he added quickly, as both Thor and Rogers started towards him menacingly. “It was meant to be a gift!”

Both men stopped their angry approach. Stark sniggered.

“A _ gift, _” Rogers repeated.

“You meant to humiliate us!” exclaimed the God of Thunder. 

“Brother,” Loki said in gentle accusation, “I _ know _ you enjoyed yourself.”

Thor’s temper faltered. “Well, I--”

“How many ladies shared your bed last night, hm? Two? Three?”

Both Stark and Rogers looked at him.

Thor cleared his throat again, sheepishly. “Four.”

“_Four!?” _Rogers barked, at the same moment Stark burst into laughter. 

“See?” said Loki reasonably. “Hardly humiliating. And I’m sure you fared nearly as well, Captain.”

Rogers flushed again--deeply this time. “Th-that’s beside the point,” he sputtered.

Loki was unphased. He turned to Tony. “And you, Stark? Did you enjoy your evening?”

Tony grinned a slow, wicked grin. “I’m not complaining. Pepper was...really something last night. And I know I wasn't the only one who saw Nat and Bruce sneak off together.”

“See?” Loki said again, grinning smugly. “A gift.”

There followed a few more minutes of half-hearted complaints; Stark’s employees really would have a hard time looking each other in the eye come Monday. But after Loki agreed to a number of magical reparations--including a memory spell that would obscure the events of the night for Starks entire staff--two of the three men left to return to their own Christmas traditions. 

Thor remained behind. 

“Did you really mean that as a gift, brother?” Thor asked in a serious voice, arms crossed.

There was a moment of silence, during which Sig realized--with some surprise--that Loki was actually going to answer honestly. 

“I did,” said the God of Mischief.

Well, partially honestly. 

_ Come on, _ Sig said to Mad, pulling her away from their eavesdropping post. _ Let’s leave them to it. _

_ But.... _ Mad looked back longingly at the open doorway. Loki’s interactions with his brother were of particular fascination to the Tolok--something about their convoluted way of communicating with each other. 

In fact, after their first return to Earth, Mad had peppered Loki with so many questions about his brother that he’d made the topic entirely off-limits; an agreement to which Mad had reluctantly agreed--in exchange for sweets. Specifically, one item a week for the remainder of Loki’s life. 

How the little Tolok remained so slim was a wonder for which Mad could provide no explanation other than, “Tolok’s have no need for fat.”

Despite their retreat from the door, Thor’s next words reached them quite clearly.

“I’m surprised every time you return to this planet, Loki.”

Sig’s eyes widened. Without thinking, she clutched Mad’s arm, heart pounding. 

Mad looked up at her in surprise, _ What is it, my Sigyn? _

_ Shhh! _

“You shouldn’t be,” Loki replied.

Another pause. Sig could almost see them staring at each other, Thor trying to figure out if his brother was truly serious. 

“Why _ do _ you keep returning? You hate this planet. Most of the humans can’t stand you. Explain that to me, Brother.”

“Is it really so difficult to understand?” Loki replied tiredly. 

“You’re the one who’s always called me a fool,” Thor accused. “So, explain it to me.”

Loki sighed. The silence stretched. Finally, he said, “You’re my brother.”

“So?” Thor demanded.

“I’ve only got the one.”

_ There, _ Sig thought in triumph. _ He’s said it! _

_ Said what? _ Mad asked as the silence in the other room stretched taut.

Sigyn didn’t reply, just wrapped her arms around the Tolok and squeezed hard in celebration. 

Mad giggled and hugged her back.

“Is that my sister I hear?” Thor’s voice boomed cheerfully through the suite.

“Oh, damn!” Sig hissed. 

Mad disappeared from her arms and rematerialized back in the doorway. “It was me, Thor Odinson. I was listening to your conversation.”

_ Mad, no! _Sig cried, feeling Loki’s surge of embarrassment and temper. 

“You were listening,” Thor said, nonplussed. He still couldn’t seem to get a handle on the Tolok. 

“Yes,” Mad said, “Loki called you his brother. But you already knew that. What is the significance of pointing it out?”

_ Shit. _Sig hurried across the room to her as Thor replied awkwardly, “Uh...well…” 

“We had a deal, Tolok,” Loki grated. “I gave you peanut brittle.”

“Yes, but you said I couldn’t ask _ you _ questions,” Mad replied just as Sigyn reached her. 

“Mad!” Sig exclaimed brightly, taking the Tolok by her thin shoulders and steering the little creature away from Thor, who stood just outside the doorway, expression thoroughly discomfited. “Why don’t you go and get Thor’s present, hm? Actually, bring all of them. Please? And then we’ll have hot chocolate after.”

Mad brightened at the suggestion of hot chocolate. “Yes, my Sigyn, of course.” She disappeared into the aether and during the moment that she was gone Sig smiled apologetically at Thor and said to Loki, “Kindly dress yourself, sir.”

Mad appeared with both arms full of brightly wrapped boxes just as Loki walked past on his way to the bedroom closet. 

Thor looked at the gifts and stuttered, “I haven’t--I didn’t know you meant to--” he looked past her at Loki, who had returned, now wearing the top half of the Santa costume again. Sigyn glared at him and Thor said, “You didn’t tell me we were exchanging gifts.” 

Loki shrugged. “It was the Tolok’s idea.”

“Toloks do not usually engage in seasonal traditions,” Mad supplied, holding out a small green-wrapped box for Thor. “This one is from Loki.”

Thor took the package almost absently, his gaze on the God of Mischief, “I thought the spell was your gift.”

Loki shrugged, face impassive. But Sig could feel his anxiety--the sense of much-hated vulnerability. 

“We should sit,” Sig said, gesturing to the set of red-upholstered couches in the living room.

Mad crossed first, dumping the presents on the coffee table and perching at the end of the longer couch, smoothing her white skirts neatly around her legs in an uncharacteristic show of self-consciousness. She was excited, though her wide violet eyes and pale cheeks showed only expectation. 

Loki went and flung himself down beside her, draping both arms over the back of the couch, expression bored. 

They were _ both _excited. 

Sig smiled at Thor, who was gazing down at Loki’s gift as though he’d never seen one before. 

“You can buy us each two presents next year to make up for it,” she said.

Thor blinked at her--and then grinned in relief. “Two it is,” he said, then turned and pointed at Loki, “Next year, we’ll see who comes out on top!”

Mad’s head tilted quizzically as she watched the God of Thunder take a seat on the couch across from them. “Is gift-giving considered a competitive activity?” she asked.

“Oh, aye,” Thor replied. “Everything we do is competitive. And I always win.”

Loki rolled his eyes. 

“I see,” the Tolok said gravely. 

Sig sat beside Loki and plucked one of the presents from the pile, placing it in his lap. Then another, which she handed to Mad. 

“Did you peek?” Sig asked. She had made Mad promise not to check the timelines around Christmas so the Tolok’s gift would be a surprise.

“It was difficult,” Mad said gazing at the silver-wrapped present with its glittering crimson bow, “But I did not.”

“Good,” Sig said, taking a present for herself--the one Mad had wrapped in red paper with little penguins on it. 

Thor was already tearing his present open; it was flask--silver, elegantly engraved with Asgardian runes--which Loki had spelled so that any spirits placed inside would be comparable in taste and quality to Asgardian liquor. Thor’s people had lost much during Ragnarok, and the God of Thunder had been complaining for years that he missed the taste of Asgardian whiskey.

Loki watched his brother examine the gift for a moment--Thor exclaiming nostalgically over the flavor of its contents--then looked at the package in his hand, face very serious, feelings distant and deep. 

Sig leaned close to him, kissed his cheek, and felt his heart flower with pleasure. 

“It’s a coffee mug,” she said. 

He gave her an amused look, one brow arched. “Aren’t you supposed to let me open it? You’ve ruined the surprise.”

“No, I haven’t.” She grinned.

Beside him, Mad--having unwrapped a five-pound package of jelly-beans--gasped in delight. “Fifty flavors,” she breathed, examining the diagram on the back.

Loki tore open his package with long, elegant fingers--and then froze, gazing at the pictures printed on the side of the white ceramic cup.

“Is that--_you?” _Thor exclaimed. 

Loki blinked. “It would seem so,” he said faintly, staring at the cup. 

It had little cartoon versions of himself all over it, each one wearing a different--but thoroughly _ Loki _ expression. Disdain, smugness, a wicked smile. One of them even sported blue skin, crimson eyes, and a distinctly pouty look.

“Did you know you had a fan club on Earth?” Sig asked.

“I ...No...I did not,” he replied, still staring at the mug. Then he did look at her. “Really? A fan club? You didn’t have this made for me?”

She laughed. “No, I ordered that on the internet. It had more than three hundred buyer reviews.”

He looked at the mug again. Mad reached over and dropped a handful of jelly beans into it. 

“Remind me to introduce you to Tumblr tonight,” Sig said as he plucked a jelly bean out of the mug and popped it into his mouth. 

“Tumblr,” Thor repeated, looking up from admiring his new flask. “What’s that?”

“Oh dear,” Sig said, “You guys are in for a treat.”

“The pornography is very interesting,” Mad said around a mouthful of candy. 

“I’m sorry, the _ what?” _Loki exclaimed. 

“Maybe that’s not the best place to start--” Sig began. 

“You are considered very attractive by human standards,” Mad told Loki. “And so there are many stories and pieces of art about you. You, too,” she added, nodding to Thor. “In fact, there are many that feature the two of y--”

“Okay!” Sig exclaimed loudly, drawing three pairs of startled eyes. “Hot chocolate! Let’s have hot chocolate!” 

“I will make it!” Mad set her jellybeans on the table and hopped up from the couch, disappearing abruptly into the aether, presumably to reappear in one of Stark’s kitchens. 

“Is it safe for her to handle heated objects?” Thor asked dubiously. 

Before anyone could answer, Mad reappeared beside Loki again. She held out her hand. 

After a brief moment, Loki dumped the remaining jellybeans out of his mug and into his palm. Then he passed the mug to her. 

She disappeared again. 

“What a strange child,” Thor muttered. 

“You have no idea,” Loki rejoined dryly. Then he nodded to the package in Sig’s lap. “You haven’t opened yours yet.” He picked it up and placed it in her hand, giving his brother a pointed look as he did so. 

Thor cleared his throat and stood, announcing that he should go and check on Mad’s progress in the kitchen. 

Sig regarded Loki suspiciously. “What was that about?”

“Just open it, woman.”

She did. 

To her utter surprise, it was…

“A ring,” she said blankly, looking at the polished golden band and the brilliant green stone in the center.

“Do you like it?”

She pulled it from the little velvet cushion on which it rested. It fit perfectly on the ring finger of her left hand. “What does the inscription say? You know I can’t read runes.”

“It’s just a protection spell,” he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

He sighed. “I should have bought you a wedding ring long ago. I thought, since you’re so fond of this planet, that you might like to wear one in the style of--_ oh Hel _, do you like it or not?”

His anxiety warmed her. 

“I do,” she said, fighting a grin. “Of course I do. I’m just surprised.”

“Why?” he demanded, sullen now. 

“It’s been nearly six years since we married.”

His gaze slid away. The God of Mischief was _ ashamed _ of himself. “You never asked for one.”

Sig had not been raised with Asgardian culture. The idea of wedding ceremonies and symbolic jewelry had never meant much to her. “Did you _ want _ me to wear a ring all this time?” she asked. 

He looked at her sidelong, green eyes accusatory. 

“You _ did,” _she exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say so, Loki?”

“It didn’t seem important,” he grumbled. 

Sig set the little box aside and brushed the bits of wrapping paper from her robe, then turned and climbed laboriously across his lap. 

His brows went up in surprise, then came down over a look of masculine pleasure as he regarded her big belly where it pressed into him, arms coming up to support her lower back and pull her closer. 

“Merry Christmas, Loki,” she murmured. 

He smiled reluctantly--though honestly. “Merry Christmas.”

Sig leaned down, kissed him slowly. “Mad will warn me when they’re getting close,” she murmured. 

His eyes flashed. “How long?”

“Five minutes, at least.”

One of his hands untied her robe and snuck under the t-shirt. “Mmm. I like a challenge.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, titillated by his predatory look and the erection already forming between them. “What kind of challenge?”

“One orgasm per minute until they return,” he said darkly. “If I succeed, you let me suckle you again and fuck you on the balcony. As many times as I want.”

“Hmmm. And if you fail?”

“Name your price.”

She smiled. “You come to Tony’s Christmas dinner gathering tonight--blue.”

He scowled. “Nobody wants to see that. It’ll put them all off their feed.”

“Not me,” she said, pressing closer, mouth against his ear, touching her tongue very lightly to the velvety lobe. “I want to fondle you under the table and then I want you to fuck me in the elevator on the way back up after dinner.”

He shivered, eyelids fluttering down. “Deal. But if I win I get to fuck you on the balcony in broad daylight.”

“Loki…”

“Shhh, I’ll use an illusion spell. No one will see us.”

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of fucking on the balcony?”

“Not at all,” he purred. 

Sigyn sighed. “Alright, it’s a deal--if you do it blue right now.”

Loli flipped her over onto her back so fast that she squealed in surprise. His skin bled blue and his eyes bright, hungry crimson. 

He licked his lips. “Spread your legs, wife.”

Sig fought not to giggle. 

“By the fates, woman. _ What _ is funny?” he growled.

“The suit,” she squeaked--and then broke into peals of high, feminine laughter. 

Loki looked down at himself--at the bright red Santa suit and the brilliant azure skin. 

He growled again, glaring at her as he freed his cock from the velvet fly. 

“You won’t be laughing in a second,” he said. 

And he was right. 

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
